Last night, while I lay thinking here,
some Whatifs crawled inside my ear
and pranced and partied all night long
and sang their same old Whatif song:
Whatif I’m dumb in school?
Whatif they’ve closed the swimming pool?
Whatif I get beat up?
Whatif there’s poison in my cup?
Whatif I start to cry?
Whatif I get sick and die?
Whatif I flunk that test?
Whatif green hair grows on my chest?
Whatif nobody likes me?
Whatif a bolt of lightning strikes me?
Whatif I don’t grow talle?
Whatif my head starts getting smaller?
Whatif the fish won’t bite?
Whatif the wind tears up my kite?
Whatif they start a war?
Whatif my parents get divorced?
Whatif the bus is late?
Whatif my teeth don’t grow in straight?
Whatif I tear my pants?
Whatif I never learn to dance?
Everything seems well, and then
the nighttime Whatifs strike again!

— Shel Silverstein

How much more relevant it is now than I ever realized it could be. I’m not sleeping right now, because of all my “whatifs.” Shel you genius!

Shel will always and forever represent that place of simplicity I’ve known since I picked up the first book.. 

oh my god beautiful.

umm yes.

This is how we do. 

that you can’t change your situation, but you can change how you deal with it. The worst thing that has ever happened to me, in my life, transpired over this last weekend. I have literally cried every day since then, multiple times a day. For people who know me, this would be absolutely unbelievable…trust me…I don’t believe it either, but it just creeps back in at the most inopportune times, and sucks away the joy and innocence I have always been able to find before now. I have come to terms with the crying, but not the anxiousness, and definitely not the anxiety. I know I’m a strong person. It’s something I’ve always known, but I find myself folding under the slightest pressure perhaps how the house of cards is no match for the weakest of winds. This is not a me I know, nor to I care to try and know her. I am going to get past this. I don’t know how, and I don’t know when…but I know. It clicked with me today, that despite all the hate and anger I feel (and will continue to feel until I make room for forgiveness) I still have my God given capacity to love people and care for them beyond the strength I don’t have for myself. There is this thing inside me that, when stirred, will lead me to reach out with all the compassion and fire to love that is physically possible before my heart will stop with the need to bring them to a good place. My heart, though broken from my own personal hell, seems to reassemble for these bewildered souls that I encounter or stumble across on a daily basis. The temporary stitches I create for these people only allow for me to bleed out more love, courage, strength, peace and happiness in their times of need. It’s this that I cling to. I know my capacity to love others back to life will keep me going, and maybe one day soon there will be enough left over to finally, and permanently weld myself into a whole piece, even stronger than before. I will survive this. I have not been ruined or crushed. Just dismantled and shaken. Even still, with this realization, I cannot help but ask how dare this other horrible human steal from me? Who is he to bring into my life this hatred and fear and discord? I hope one day I can forgive him. I know he won’t be able to hurt anyone else for a long time. Some say God will not give you more than you can bear, but I don’t think that they’ve accounted for the people that will try. thankfully I have recognized the situation for what it is, I broke a lot of glass (literally), and now I can try to pick up the pieces (metaphorically).

“We’ve been down to the bottom, stories we’ve got em…”

I hate it when this happens…*sigh*

All day every day.

Mine was “premeditated murder”….future’s so bright.